


i'm right here beside you

by tosca1390



Category: Innkeeper Chronicles - Ilona Andrews
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: “You need rest,” Sean says after a moment, resting his hand at the small of her back.“I’m fine,” she says reflexively, looking at him.He fixes her with a stare, the wolf right there, protective and focused on her alone. “Dina.”She sighs again. There’s no species to save from extinction, no peace summit to host, no vampires to cater to. Her sister is on a new adventure. Sean is here, Sean is home. She can rest for a bit. “Yeah, all right.”
Relationships: Dina Demille/Sean Evans
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	i'm right here beside you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empressearwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/gifts).



*

Dina won’t admit it, but the Treaty Stay takes too much out of her. Once the guests depart (and with them, the Assembly’s threatened summons), and Gertrude Hunt is quiet once more, all she wants to do is sleep. Her connection to the inn is full and empowered once more, but she’s still exhausted.

The last portal closes at dusk the day after Treaty Stay concludes, the Drifan Liege heading back to her planet, Dina’s secret tucked into her pocket. In the purple dusk of a Texas winter, Sean and Dina stand quietly together. It’s a chilly day and Dina shivers, the breeze curling through her innkeeper robes. She rubs her thumb along the spine of her broom, sighing. 

“You need rest,” Sean says after a moment, resting his hand at the small of her back. 

“I’m fine,” she says reflexively, looking at him. 

He fixes her with a stare, the wolf right there, protective and focused on her alone. “Dina.”

She sighs again. There’s no species to save from extinction, no peace summit to host, no vampires to cater to. Her sister is on a new adventure. Sean is here, Sean is home. She can rest for a bit. “Yeah, all right.”

He cracks a grin as they turn to go back inside Gertrude Hunt. “I know you’re tired when you don’t pick a fight.”

She reaches over and punches him in the arm lightly. “Don’t get cocky.”

Sean wraps an arm around her shoulders and tucks her into his side, laughing quietly. Dina presses her cheek against his shoulder, relishing the warmth of his body, the solidity of him. There was a time, not long ago, that he could have been gone forever, trapped in the hell of war on Nexus. She wants so desperately to cling, to hold him here in warmth and comfort. 

Every time she tries to settle, to hold on, she loses. She doesn’t want to lose any longer. 

“I wonder if Orro could make stew,” she murmurs as they enter the inn. Sean closes the door behind them with a nod to the inn. 

“Orro will make you anything. What kind?” Sean asks, the same steady tone she remembers from the darkness, the coma. 

She hums, making her way through the ballroom towards the stairs to their bedroom. He stays at her side, his arm a comforting weight around her shoulder. “Beef? Something hearty. Let him have fun with it.”

“I’ll tell him,” he says. 

They make their way into their bedroom – she loves thinking of it that way, _theirs_ \- and she yawns as she pulls off her innkeeper robes, jeans, and sweater. Sean is there with an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, which she pulls on gratefully. His gaze wanders appreciatively but he merely pulls back the blankets and sheets and sits on the edge of the bed as she crawls in. 

“I want you to sleep,” he says, stroking her hair away from her face. His hand is warm and callused, gentle on her skin. 

“You’re very demanding in my inn,” she murmurs, catching his hand in hers and lacing her fingers in his. 

“ _Our_ ,” he says, a slight catch in his voice. 

Dina smiles slightly, even though the terror of abandonment lingers. “Yes. Ours.”

The inn shivers around them, pleased. Sean leans over to kiss her lightly. “Sleep.”

She is tired, but she doesn’t want to let go of his hand. She doesn’t want to close her eyes and wake up to find he’s gone, lost to war and death and all the things he gave himself up to in order to save her. 

“Dina, it’s ok,” he says quietly, leaning over her. His eyes are dark and calm. 

She closes her heavy eyes. Sleep is a relief. 

*

The thirteen days between the Draziri siege and the beginning of Treaty Stay remain a blur to Dina. Maud and Helen leave the day after “Christmas” with Arland and House Krakr; Sean and the other werewolves begin the repairs to Gertrude Hunt’s defense systems; and Dina, Dina finds her way back to her inn. 

There are long days, there are loud days, there are quiet days. Sean’s parents stay two days after the siege, to visit with their son and to get to know Dina. She likes his parents. The affection between them and Sean is bittersweet to experience, so reminded Dina is of her lost parents. In between little bits of rest forced on her by Orro, Sean, Maud, or even Beast, she makes Sean his innkeeper robe, half-afraid it will be unused, that he will decide he wants something different. Every night, he sleeps in her bed and she curls around him. Every morning, he is there when she wakes, a hard warm anchor to the world she thought was lost.

The first rush of physical want doesn’t fade. Whenever she feels his gaze on her, Dina practically vibrates out of her skin. But there are more important needs to attend to, rather than her own selfish ones. At least, there had been. 

But now, there is room to breathe. Winter has settled its mild grey grasp on Red Deer, and they pass through Treaty Stay unharmed. 

Now, Dina _wants_. 

* 

Throughout January, Sean gets to know Gertrude Hunt, and Dina slowly, painfully, learns to trust in his solidity. Guests are steady enough – the success of Treaty Stay got around Baha-char. Together, she and Sean arrange rooms, make plans for the lawn, replenish the defenses. Orro perfects lasagna; Beast follows Sean around the inn. Olsaard, the mysterious cat, finds new places to nap. Caldenia finds a new mystery series to devour and makes delightful (sometimes worrisome) observations of their guests to Dina over tea. 

The first weekend in February, there is a sudden cold snap that settles over Red Deer. On Saturday morning, Dina wakes to find the bed empty and the air smelling of snow. Shivering, she pulls on her red plaid robe and peers out the window at the dusting of snow, smiling faintly. There are no guests this weekend, a welcome break. All she wants to do is stay in bed, preferably with Sean. But he’s already up, so. 

After showering and dressing in her coziest sweater and jeans, she slips downstairs to the kitchen. Orro has coffee and cinnamon rolls hot and ready, and Dina sighs in pleasure. 

“You’re a magician,” she tells him, and he blushes under all his quills. “Have you seen Sean?”

“He’s clearing the sidewalks,” Orro says, turning his attention to his sourdough starter – a new project. “Caldenia’s observing.”

_Ogling, more likely,_ Dina thinks. She takes two cinnamon rolls on a plate and departs for the living room. It’s where she finds Caldenia, ostensibly reading in one of the plush loveseats near the windows facing the street. 

“He is an absolute delight to have around, dear,” Caldenia says with a wink. “So handy.”

Dina sighs, smiling ruefully. “Warm enough?” she asks. 

“Certainly. I don’t have to ask you, do I?” Caldenia teases. 

Raising her cup to Caldenia, Dina slips out the front door, shivering as the chilly air catches around her bare neck and hands. She places her plate on top of her cup as she shuts the door. Beast, leaping around in the snow near Sean, barks at her appearance and races up the porch stairs to dance at her feet. 

“You abandoned me,” she tells Beast, who wags their tail. 

“Where’s your coat, Demille?” Sean calls, spreading rock salt along the sidewalk beyond their fence. 

“Warm enough watching the gun show you’re putting on, Evans,” she calls back, leaning back against the cool siding. She takes a bite of the still-warm cinnamon roll, licking cream cheese frosting from the corner of her mouth. 

From across the front lawn, she can feel Sean’s gaze on her. Sipping her coffee, she watches in return. He hauls the bag of salt from side to side, his forearms flexing as he does. He’s only wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans, eschewing a jacket of any kind; he runs hot, so it’s not unexpected. But it’s still something of a show. 

Once he finishes with the sidewalks, he comes back up the path towards the porch, the half-full bag of salt looking like nothing in the frame of his body. He sets the bag down at the edge of the stairs and Gertrude Hunt swallows it away into storage. Touching the stairs railing in thanks, he takes the steps two at a time to reach Dina. 

“You’re getting good at talking to her,” she says with a bright smile. 

Sean leans in and kisses her, tasting of coffee and snow. “You should have a coat on.”

“Don’t be a nag,” she laughs. 

He swipes a cinnamon roll from her plate and bites half of it in one go. “These are good.”

“Tell Orro when you see him, maybe he’ll add them to the regular rotation,” she says. 

He nods, licking his fingers of frosting. She watches him, desire a low warm coil in her belly, always ready to spring. 

“What’s the plan for today?” he asks once he finishes chewing, eyes dark and warm. 

The air between them feels thick with tension. She wets her lips and his eyes focus on the tip of her tongue. 

“Thought we could make some rooms for the group coming in on Tuesday,” she says, sipping her coffee. 

Sean nods, leaning over her. He braces his hand on the door frame, bowing his head towards hers. “I might go for a run, after.”

Dina quells the urge to ask if he’s happy, if he wants to escape. Instead, she nods, curling into the warmth of his body.

“And then – “ he hesitates just for a moment. “I thought – maybe we could have dinner together.”

She tilts her head, raising her eyebrows. “We have dinner every night.”

He rolls his eyes. “No, Dina. Like – a date. Just us.”

“Oh,” she says softly, abruptly pleased. Warmth flutters right through her, settling like trapped birds’ wings in her chest. “Yes. I’d like that.”

Grinning, he leans in and kisses her again. In the February chill, with Beast at her feet and a certainty that Caldenia is watching, Dina kisses him back, tasting the cinnamon from his tongue. She doesn’t care who sees that he’s here, and he’s hers. 

“I need real food,” he murmurs against her lips. “C’mon.”

She smiles as he takes her plate, a half-eaten cinnamon roll lingering, and opens the front door for her. The inn welcomes them inside with warmth and life, and Caldenia’s chuckle from the living room. Beast trots towards the kitchen in search of a snack, and Sean follows, glancing behind to grin at Dina. 

Dina holds her coffee close to her chest and smiles. 

*

When Sean sends her to their suite to get ready for dinner, she wants to ask a million questions. She refrains, but takes care with her appearance. Curling her hair into soft waves, she slips on a midnight-blue sweater dress, the knit fabric shot with silver threads. It clings through her chest and flares out at her waist. She forgoes tights and slides on silver-grey flats as she slides delicate pearl studs into her earlobes. 

From the window, Olsaard watches her primp without blinking. Outside, everything is a wintery dark, but she can see the reflection of warm yellow light in the thin blanket of snow. 

“You might want to find somewhere else to sleep tonight, kitty,” she says, thinking of Sean pressing her into the bed, his teeth against the soft skin of her throat. A shiver runs up her spine. 

Finally, a little past seven, Sean knocks on their bedroom door. When he steps in, she blinks at the sight of him. The forest green button-down shirt is crisp against the sharp lines of his chest and arms, the color bringing out his eyes, tucked into his dark jeans. She wants to pull him in and tear the clothes right off of him. 

From the look in his eyes and the way she watches the wolf rise there, she thinks he might feel the same. 

“Ready?” he asks instead, offering his hand. 

“You’re being very mysterious,” she says with a smile, sliding her fingers into his. 

“Nah. Just wanted to spend some time with my girl,” he says with a shrug. 

Gertrude Hunt is quiet as they make their way downstairs, through the great room. The mosaic seems to gleam under their feet. Dina touches a wall as they pass, and the inn sighs in pleasure. All is well. 

Sean takes her to a little room off of the great room, taking a deep breath. She watches, curiously. He must have conjured this himself, as it hadn’t been there a few hours ago when they were making rooms together. 

“So, here we are,” he says, pushing open the door and letting her in first. 

Dina steps inside and blinks, mouth falling open in surprise. Two of the walls plus the ceiling are glass panes, as if they are in a snow globe. Snow flutters in a light dusting against the outside. Fairy lights gleam silver and gold across the ceiling, creating a dappled effect against the glass, repeating onward into reflective infinity. There is a fireplace to her left, set into the main wall of the inn, and a small table set for two close by, jarred votive candles flickering in the center of the table settings. It’s soft and comfortable and lovely, and it’s for her, from him. 

“My first solo room,” he says from behind her. His lips are close to her earlobe. “You like it?”

“It’s lovely,” she says, turning to beam at him. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

Sean furrows his brow, but doesn’t say anything, as Orro clears his throat behind them. 

“The cheese puffs must be served and eaten warm!” Orro announces. 

And with that, Sean and Dina hurry to their seats. His hand lingers at the small of her back, an electric shock of a touch. 

After cheese puffs and braised short rib with brussels sprouts and mashed potatoes, they linger over a third glass of red wine and black forest cake for two. Cozy and warm, Dina leans back in her chair and watches the sparkle of lights over the glass above them, her fingers drumming along the stem of her wine glass. 

“What made you want to do all this?” she asks after a moment, looking over at Sean. 

He looks at her steadily, candlelight shading the familiar scar on his face. “Because I wanted to.”

She smiles slightly, and sips the last of her wine. 

“You seem – surprised,” he adds after a moment. 

Dina blinks. “I was.”

“I mean – you seem surprised someone would do something like this for you. Let alone your partner,” he says. 

Her eyebrows pleat together and she runs her hands over her knit skirt. “I’ve been alone a long time, Sean,” she says after a beat. “I’m – I’m not used to – “

“Having someone take care of you,” he finishes. 

She shrugs. “I guess. But – I don’t _need_ someone to take care of me.”

Sean’s quiet for a long spell, watching her. He reaches out and takes her hand in his over the smooth wood tabletop, his strong fingers linking into hers. 

“I know you don’t need it,” he says, in that steady, low tone she loves. “But you can have it, Dina. We both can. We take care of each other, now.”

Suddenly, there are hot tears pressing behind her eyes. She swallows against the lump in her throat. 

“And sometimes, maybe we just do things for each other. And that’s not – not a big deal. It just is what we do. Because we love each other,” he says. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Her fingers spasm in his grip reflexively. His mouth twists slightly. She’s hurt him. 

“I know – I know,” she says hurriedly, a cold knot of panic in her belly. “It’s just – hard to break old habits.”

Sean nods, rubbing his thumb along the join between her thumb and index finger. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. “It’s like we talked about before. I trust you to do what you need to do, and you trust me. We trust each other.”

“We do,” she says softly, cheeks warm. “I do.”

“Okay,” he says, smiling slightly. 

She smiles back. “Okay.”

*

Because Sean doesn’t want the inn to get mad at him ( _“That’s not how it works, Sean – “ “Just humor me, Dina – “_ ), they take a few moments to clean up and reset the room to its pristine, pre-dinner state. 

“If the inn didn’t want you, it wouldn’t accept you,” she says as they enter their suite, closing the door on the snow-silent darkened inn. Beast and Olsaard are asleep in the living room, alert to any intrusions. 

Sean shrugs, his fingers playing with the loose waves of hair at her shoulders. The lighting in their bedroom softens the hard lines of his face, lines she loves. “Doesn’t mean I should make messes.”

Dina smiles, shaking her head. “You’re something else, Evans,” she murmurs, kicking off her flats. 

He catches her at the waist and pulls her to him, her back flush to his chest. Immediately she relaxes into him, sighing softly. 

“And you’re beautiful,” he murmurs against her, his lips trailing along her neck. There is the press and graze of teeth at the pulse in her throat. She shivers and rests her hands on his forearms where they curve around her waist. The heat of his body penetrates her knit dress down to her bones. Arousal blooms between them, and she shifts her thighs in search of friction. 

Against her skin, he catches his breath. 

“Sean,” she whispers. 

A rumble of a growl echoes in his chest. He nips at the join of her neck and shoulder, right at the edge of her dress’s neckline, and then soothes the bite with a kiss. His hands move over her waist to cup her breasts through her dress. Her nipples peak against her bra and she arches into the touch, shifting for more touch, more skin, more friction. His lips find her earlobe and she aches for him, for the press of his weight against her, for his touch between her thighs, for his mouth against hers. Impatiently, she turns in his arms and leans up to kiss him, her arms linking around his shoulders. Their kiss is fierce and urgent, contrasted with the gentle way his hands stroke her hair and down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her hips to his. 

When he pulls her onto their bed, laying her out across the wide mattress, she blinks up at him in a haze. His hands make quick work of his shirt as he kneels over her, pulling it out from his jeans and dragging it over his head. She shifts up onto her elbows and bites her bottom lip, watching him. 

“Come here,” she says, her voice low and soft. 

Sean grins slightly, his eyes dark and wolfish, and pounces. She brings him into the light and he keeps her safe. They are a team, she thinks as their limbs tangle on the bed. His hands slide under her skirt and push up her knit dress, his mouth dropping kisses as more of her body is revealed. Cool air touches her skin and she shivers, raising her arms as he drags the dress over her head. He doesn’t toss it aside, though; he rises and lays it over the back of the chair on the other side of the room. Somehow, that small gesture brings a hard knot of longing alive in her chest.

His hands go to his belt as he comes back to bed, and together they loosen his jeans, pressing them down over his hips and thighs. As he kicks them off his ankles, he traces the heavy curves of her breasts with his lips, following the cut of her bra as she wriggles out of her underwear and kicks them off the bed. He is warm and solid against her, his body fitting between her spread thighs. As he maps the now-familiar commas and lines of her body with his lips and tongue, painting her alive with desire, she skims her fingers over the close crop of his hair, the scars across his shoulders, the heavy muscle of his biceps, the gooseflesh rising at the nape of his neck. 

Every inch of him is precious, even more so now that they have bled and fought and shown each other their weak points. She was fascinated and attracted to the hotshot ex-Army new neighbor; but she loves this Sean, who thinks of the most vulnerable, who will give up himself as a weapon to those who need it, who treats the inn like a precious gift and a helpmeet. 

“Dina, I can hear you thinking,” Sean says, biting at her hipbone. 

She yelps and laughs, her skin flushing pink. When she looks down, he smiles at her, the scar across his face shifting with the movement. She watches as his hands slide under her bottom, as he mouths the thin skin between her thigh and hip, as he noses into the damp curls between her legs. Her thighs tremble and she presses back into the bed as he teases her with tongue and fingers, the sensation of excited tension stringing through her like the tautening of a bow. He is single-minded in the enjoyment he takes from eating her out, and she is delirious with pleasure from it, from the hard press of his shoulders against her thighs, the way his tongue searches her aroused flesh, the teasing circle of his thumb against her clit. 

Dina moans and shuts her eyes, digging her fingers into his shoulders. She can feel every hitch of his breath, every moan and growl from his mouth against her. All of her is aflame with desire, her skin dappled with sweat and her muscles trembling. He works her, two fingers curling inside and his tongue at her clit, until she shudders and gasps through her orgasm, her thighs tightening around him, her toes flexing against the bed. The scent of desire is heavy in the room, and she can feel him vibrating with need even as he strokes her down from her peak, mouth soft at her thigh and hipbone. 

But she wants him. She doesn’t need care, she needs _him_. 

“Sean – “ she all but moans, fingernails digging into his muscled shoulders. 

He pulls himself up her body, the friction of skin-on-skin alighting her anew. He groans as she wraps her thighs around his hips and pulls him right into her core, his erection sliding along slick flesh. When she kisses him, she tastes herself on his tongue and likes it, and he rocks into her with a growl. She shivers and slides a hand down to stroke him, to give him the same pleasure he gives to her so freely. The feel of him is hot and heavy in her hand, a twist of the wrist and the flat of her palm pulling a growl out of his chest. 

When she guides him inside her, she plants her feet on the bed, hugging his hips with her thighs. The leverage helps with the pace; he aches to claim her, his breath hot and fast at the hollow of her throat. She moves her hips in slow motions and he matches her, presses her for more, cups her breast and grazes his teeth over her collarbones, one elbow sinking into the bed to keep himself from fully crushing her. But she wants the full press of him on her, wants to drown in the promises of now and forever. 

“Dina – “ he whispers against her ear, raising his head slightly. 

She meets his gaze, which is wild and gleaming. The wolf is here -all of him is here, just as is all of her. Reaching up, she frames his face between her hands, touching the lines and scars with gentle fingers. He falters in his rhythm, breathing stuttered. Laid out before him, she knows he could take what he wants. But he waits.

She doesn’t want him to wait any longer. 

“Take me, Sean,” she murmurs, melting into his hold, the frame of his body around hers. 

With a low growl, he leans down and kisses her fiercely, all lips and tongue and the nip of teeth. And then, he takes her. 

*

Later, much later, they tidy the room and share a quick, hot shower. In bed, limbs loose and hair piled on her head in a loose bun, Dina stretches out against Sean’s side, her chin resting in the hollow of his shoulder. Her hand is light on his chest, right over his heart. The room is dark but she knows the look on his face, the curious tension in the way his hand lays on her back. 

“I love you,” she says softly after a long spell of quiet, tucking her face into the side of his throat. 

Sean breathes in and out deeply, his large callused hand flexing against the bare skin of her back. The bedcovers are loose around them. He runs hot and she hardly needs extra blankets with his body heat curved around her. 

“I love you, too,” he says quietly, the wolf in the woods bleeding into his voice. His other hand covers hers where it lays on his chest. “You can count on me, Dina.”

Old memories taunt her, but she pushes them away. To love Sean is to trust Sean. He won’t leave. 

She nods against his neck. “I know,” she says, brushing her lips across his skin in a kiss. 

He shifts under her, and kisses her hair, where it meets her forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. 

They slip into sleep, intertwined. Around them, the inn is still, at peace, and content. 

*


End file.
